


Grazie, Pansy

by Starbucky (StarBucky)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Language Barrier, M/M, Muteness, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarBucky/pseuds/Starbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank doesn't really speak English. Gerard doesn't speak at all. That doesn't stop them from falling hard for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I told Mikey to give me a prompt and this is what he gave me: "gerard doesn’t speak and frank only speaks italian and very little english so understanding each other is really hard but they still hold hands despite the scars on their arms showing and they still wear smiles and can’t wait to come home to each other because maybe it’s a roommate au or something"
> 
> Mikey also wrote the rough draft of the introduction for me. Thanks, dude!  
> I apologize for any errors in the Italian dialogue. I don't actually speak it, so I'm relying on other sources.

He’d written a note to the boy upon arrival, placing it in front of him and preparing to shrug. It was the silent response he gave to most people who inevitably asked why he didn’t speak.

The boy seemed to struggle, though, silent as well as he tried to read the note. He’d gone through the same struggle earlier that morning with the “roommate wanted” ad. Both were written in English, a language he, unfortunately, didn’t actually speak.

He’d seen what he was fairly certain was a name, though. “Gerard…?”

The artist nodded, and the boy grinned wide.

"Ciao, il mio nome è Frank," he said in response, and Gerard kind of blinked at him for a second. He really did shrug then, and gestured the young man--apparently named Frank--to follow for a tour around the quaint and quiet apartment. Frank spent the entire time fiddling with a loose thread on the left sleeve of his sweatshirt.

After the short tour, Gerard turned to Frank again, shrugging once more as if to say, _what do you think?_

Frank nodded animatedly. “Grazie, grazie,” he smiled, then tentatively asked, “Avrò… move… in… domani? T-tomorrow?” He waited for confirmation from the artist, which he received in the form of a nod. “Grazie,” he said again as he promptly turned on his heel and left the apartment with a cheery, small, “Ciao!”

Gerard stood there for a while, blinking in confusion as he stared at his front door. Eventually he sighed quietly and returned to his daily 1 PM coffee and viewing of the third Star Wars film.

He thought briefly of straightening up the apartment so it would be nicer for his new roomate tomorrow, but the thought vanished as quickly as it had come once his movie started. He sighed again as he settled into the couch, hiding his face behind his coffee cup and ignoring when Mikey called an hour later, like always.

***

Frank sat down on his bed, looking down at the boxes that held all of his possessions. He didn’t have much so it hadn’t taken him too long to pack everything up. He’d already taken a second look around the room to make sure he hadn’t missed anything; he’d even considered running the vacuum over the carpet before deciding against it and getting out the carpet sweeper instead (which was pointless because the thing was a piece of shit that never worked).

He sighed as his mind wandered back to Gerard again. He’d been thinking about the guy all night, replaying their makeshift interview over and over in his mind. It hadn’t really been much of an interview. Gerard hadn’t asked him anything about himself or his background. In fact, Gerard hadn’t said anything to him at all. He frowned upon realizing this, then shrugged. Even if Gerard had said anything to him there was a good chance Frank wouldn’t have been able to understand him anyway.

***

By the time the movie ended, Gerard was no longer paying any attention to it at all. Instead he’d spent the past hour or so thinking about Frank. He was pretty sure the guy didn’t speak English, and Gerard couldn’t decide if he should take that as a blessing or a curse.

He was still thinking about it several minutes later when his phone buzzed on the small table beside the couch. He picked it up and unlocked the screen, already knowing it was probably Mikey.

 _How dare you ignore my call!_ it read. The phone vibrated again in his hand, displaying another text from his brother. _I could be bleeding out in an alley somewhere!_

Gerard rolled his eyes as he typed out his reply.

_I guess that would suck for you, then._

Once he hit send, the artist put his phone down and stood up, grabbing his coffee mug and going into his kitchen to refill it. When he went back to the living room, Mikey had sent back an emoji that was rolling it’s eyes.

They went back and forth like that for a few minutes until Gerard decided to tell his brother about Frank.

_I found a roommate. I don’t think he speaks English, though._

_Technically neither do you. What’s his name? It is a guy, right?_

Gerard nodded before remembering that Mikey couldn’t see him.

_His name’s Frank._

The conversation when on for a few minutes longer until Mikey asked if Frank was attractive. If Gerard was being honest with himself he would have to say that yes, Frank was attractive. Very attractive. Mikey didn’t need to know that, though.

Instead of acknowledging the question, Gerard told his brother that he was going to sketch. Mikey sent an emoji that was sticking its tongue out at Gerard, then a hand throwing up the peace sign.

***

The room was dark and Frank could barely make out letters on the paper in front of him. He was curled up in bed with Gerard’s note in his hand. He still had no idea what it said and he’d given up trying to figure it out. He was just staring blankly at it now as he wondered what tomorrow had in store for him.

He wondered if Gerard would be easy to live with. He didn’t exactly seem like the argumentative type, but then Frank had only known the guy for an hour or so.

Flipping over onto his back, he tried to imagine what annoying habits Gerard might have. Did he leave his hair clogging up the shower drain? Maybe he left dirty dishes piled up in the sink or his shoes in the middle of the floor. Frank had done both of the latter things himself on more than one occasion, but he was trying to get better about them.

He wondered what kind of music Gerard liked, and if he was a dog or a cat person. Frank was personally hoping he was a dog kind of guy. Maybe he could even convince Gerard to let him have one eventually.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he was suddenly waking up to the obnoxious morning sunlight assaulting his eyes.

Frank yawned as he got out of bed. He stretched, then stumbled to the bathroom to take a piss and brush his teeth. When he emerged, he pulled on the same jeans he’d been wearing the day before and a t-shirt he’d left hanging over his bedroom door knob before making the decision to skip breakfast in favor loading his boxes into the back of a rented moving van.

***

Gerard was seated at his kitchen table, still mostly asleep and nursing his second cup of coffee of the morning. He usually wasn’t fully awake until he got about halfway through a third cup and today was no exception. His hair was a tangled black mess that he kept having to shake back out of his face. His wrinkled pajama pants hung low on his hips and the scent of the coffee in front of him was the only thing keeping him from slumping forward and falling asleep on the table in front of him.

Twenty minutes later Gerard had finished that third cup and had moved back to his messy bedroom. Stripping out of his night clothes, he grabbed a somewhat clean towel from the floor and wrapped it around his hips.

He showered quickly, brushed his teeth, and then spent way too long trying to get his hair to do what he wanted. When it was finally somewhat presentable, he returned to his room to get dressed.

***

It was just past one in the afternoon when Frank finally finished loading up his moving van. He only had six or seven boxes, a mattress, his laptop, and the bedding that he’d forgotten to save a box for but by the time he finished he was just short of exhausted. He had figured he could make the move himself without much trouble, but now he was seriously wishing he’d called someone for help.

As he stood there leaning against the side of the van and trying to catch his breath, it occurred to him that he had no idea what time Gerard was expecting him. They hadn’t discussed a time or anything like that. He frowned, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and running his tongue over the little metal ring through it as he did so.

In the end he decided to just show up. He didn’t have Gerard’s phone number anyway and he really didn’t feel like digging out his laptop and hoping he could connect to someone’s wifi network long enough to send an email and wait for a reply. Besides, Gerard knew he was moving in today so Frank figured he’d probably be home all day.

***

Frank got his answer when he pulled up and parked outside of Gerard’s apartment. _His_ apartment too, he reminded himself. He could see the faint flicker of what he assumed was the television on inside, meaning that Gerard was probably inside watching it.

As he made his way up to the door Frank realized he didn’t have his own key yet. He inhaled deeply and cast one last look back at his borrowed van before knocking rather loudly on the door.

When it opened a minute later, Frank couldn’t keep the wide grin from spreading across his face. He was beginning to realize that the artist just had that effect on him.

“Ciao!” Frank greeted with a little wave. Gerard returned the gesture with a small smile of his own. “Può aiutarmi…?”

Gerard’s smile morphed into a blank stare and for a moment Frank was worried Gerard would turn and walk back inside, leaving him to unload all of his things by himself. He was about to dismiss the question with a wave of his hand when he realized that Gerard probably just had no idea what he’d been asked. The younger boy giggled, causing Gerard to give him an odd sort of look before reverting back to blank confusion.

“Ah… help?” he tried again, hoping he’d used the correct word. When Gerard still didn’t move, Frank turned and went back to the van. Opening the back, he picked up the nearest box and pulled it out. He held it up for Gerard to see, then repeated his request.

Gerard finally seemed to understand, and Frank was relieved when he came down to where Frank was standing and took the box from him. Frank grabbed a second box and followed Gerard back into the house.

Once they’d finished, Gerard disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back he had two mugs of steaming coffee. He wordlessly handed one over to Frank, who took it with a grateful little nod and watched as Gerard plopped himself back down onto the couch.

When Frank looked over at the television, he immediately recognized the paused image on the screen as the third Star Wars film.  He wasted no time in joining his new roomate on the couch when Gerard patted the seat beside him in invitation, and when Frank unconsciously leaned into him somewhere toward the end of the movie, Gerard just let him.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank spent his first couple of days in the new place settling in, unpacking his boxes, and learning the layout of the apartment. His bedroom was across the hall and one room down from Gerard’s, right next to the bathroom at the far end of the hall. It was smaller than Gerard’s, but Frank didn’t mind at all. He actually prefered it that way.

On the first night he’d been there, Gerard had helped Frank move a beat up old desk from a cluttered corner of the living room into Frank’s room. They’d put it against the wall under the window, but Frank decided he didn’t like it there and moved it (with much difficulty) to sit against the opposite wall.

Under the window he put his bed, which was really just a mattress on the floor for now. He’d get a bed frame eventually, probably. His old and worn sheets had been pulled messily over the mattress, and the blanket was spread crookedly over the top. Several pillows cluttered up the bed, making Gerard wonder briefly how there could possibly be any room for Frank.

On the desk Frank had placed his laptop and the novel he was currently reading. He didn’t have a chair yet, but there was a nice looking dresser in the back corner of the room. It had been there before he had, but after inspecting it and finding all the drawers empty, Frank figured that it was probably meant for him to use.

Once he was unpacked, Frank left his room to go find Gerard. He found him sitting in the kitchen, half empty mug left forgotten on the counter and sketch book open in front of him. A pair of large headphones covered Gerard’s ears, making him oblivious to Frank’s presence as he stood there watching the artist’s steady hand move across the page in long, confident strokes.

To say that Frank was impressed would have been an understatement. He’d known that Gerard was an artist, but he hadn’t actually seen any of his work until now. He was amazing, and Frank was transfixed by the sketch that was coming alive on the page right before his eyes.

His trance was broken when Gerard finally looked up and noticed him, causing the pencil to fall from his hand in shock. Frank couldn’t help but smile as Gerard reached up to remove his headphones.

“Sei sorprendente…” Frank whispered, pointing to the drawing and giving Gerard a thumbs up. Gerard gave a small smile, something Frank had come to learn as his way of saying ‘thank you’.

Suddenly remembering that he’d been looking for Gerard for a reason, Frank pulled out the chair opposite him and plopped down into it. He grabbed the little spiral notebook that Gerard kept on the table for things like grocery lists and some written communication purposes when it was absolutely necessary.

Gerard watched with curiosity as Frank tore a page out and picked up the discarded pencil. His tongue poked out in concentration as he scribbled little doodles onto the top of the page. When he was finished, he turned the paper around to give Gerard a better look.

The first thing Frank had drawn was a circle with a slash going through it. Gerard recognized it as the universal sign for ‘no’. Next to it was a half gallon carton. Based on the little cow that frank had drawn on the front, Gerard assumed it was supposed to be milk. After that Frank had written his name, followed by a frowning face with x’d out eyes. After looking it over a few times, Gerard finally worked out what Frank was trying to tell him. He couldn’t have milk.

When Gerard nodded in understanding, Frank took the paper back and drew similar diagrams of the rest of his allergies. When he was finished, Gerard took the chart and looked it over before sticking it to the refrigerator.

When he came back to take his seat at the table once more, he took back the pencil that Frank offered him and resumed his sketching. Frank watched intently until the drawing was finished, and Gerard tried his hardest to squash down the nagging part of himself that just wanted to draw Frank.

That, of course, didn’t last long. Only a few hours had past when Gerard found himself inevitably giving in.

Frank was curled up in the corner of the couch, his small feet tucked up underneath him and his eyes fixed to the television screen. He was watching what seemed to be some kind of low budget horror film, and his hands gripped tighter at the blanket he had draped around his shoulders every time something made him jump.

The movie was in Italian, which meant that Gerard couldn’t understand a word of it, but that was fine by him. He was much more interested in watching Frank.

Grabbing his sketchbook from where it still lay on the table, Gerard flipped to a clean page and moved quietly to sit on the opposite end of the couch. He situated himself so that he was facing Frank, who was so engrossed in the movie that he didn’t even notice Gerard.

For a few minutes he just studied Frank, taking in his features and committing them to memory. Then he began to sketch, looking up every so often in order to get every angle and curve just right.

Frank remained totally oblivious, and when Gerard finished the basic sketch he quietly got up and slipped into his bedroom to add the detail. Just as he was closing his bedroom door, Gerard could hear what sounded like credits rolling. The sound of Frank’s socked feet padding down the hall and the click of the lock on the bathroom door immediately followed.

Gerard had meant for the drawing to be just a quick sketch, but by the time he was finished with it there was a fully inked and coloured piece sitting in front of him. He’d gotten lost within the artwork, something that happened a lot when he was enjoying his subject.

Frank was definitely a subject that Gerard enjoyed. Aside from being easy on the eyes, Frank was easy to get along with and easy to live with.

Despite not being able to understand a word he was saying, Gerard loved listening to Frank talk. He had a really nice speaking voice, and Gerard wondered what his singing voice sounded like.

It was also a huge relief to Gerard to be able to talk to someone who didn’t expect him to answer back. Whenever Gerard went out in public by himself, people always tried to talk to him. When he didn’t reply back to them, they’d often give him odd looks, like his muteness personally offended them or something. It made Gerard uncomfortable; people should really mind their own business. Frank was different, though.

Frank would sit beside Gerard with an easy smile on his face as he chattered away about things he knew full well the artist couldn’t comprehend. Gerard suspected Frank just liked the company; not that he wasn’t guilty of the exact same thing himself.   

Looking over his work one more time, Gerard decided he was quite pleased with the final result. He added his signature in small letters near the bottom, then closed the book and slid it into one of his desk drawers for safe keeping.

Frank didn’t see Gerard again until the next morning. When he’d come out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower and towel wrapped securely around his hips, Gerard had already disappeared into his room for the night.

Frank went back to his own room and pulled on a pair of boxers. He used the towel that had previously been clinging to his hips to quickly dry his hair, messing it up considerably in the process. A quick look in the mirror revealed that he’d need to run a comb through it unless he wanted to deal with a tangled mess in the morning.

Once he’d fixed his hair, Frank grabbed his laptop from the desk and brought it over to his bed. He sat with his back against the wall and his legs straight out in front of him, laptop resting on his thighs as he checked his email and a few of the websites he liked to frequent.

When everything had been checked and read, Frank stood up to set his computer back on his desk and shut off his light.

Once he was settled back in bed, this time curled up amongst his nest of pillows with the comforter pulled up tight and warm around him, Frank let his mind wander back to Gerard and his incredible talent. He found himself wondering what his own face would look like in Gerard’s style, and his last coherent thought before drifting off to sleep was that he hoped he’d get so see someday.

When Gerard got up the next morning, he was greeted by the sight of Frank clad only in a t-shirt and boxers. He was sitting in his usual corner of the couch with a bowl of cereal on his lap and a spoon sticking out of his mouth. The television was playing early morning cartoons, which Frank seemed to be pretty engrossed in despite the fact that they were in English. Gerard couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face.

That smile stayed around when Gerard went into the kitchen to find that Frank had already made a fresh pot of coffee.

The grateful little click of the tongue that Gerard made as he poured himself a cup caught Frank’s attention, alerting him to the artist’s presence just as he was shoving a rather large spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Buongiorno!” he said around his mouthful of cereal, causing droplets of milk to spew from his mouth and fly out in all directions.

Gerard set his coffee down on the table and grabbed a napkin, amusement clearly displayed on his face.

“Cazzo mi dispiace!” Frank shouted, which only caused more milk to escape.

Gerard couldn’t help it. Frank just looked so damn ridiculous and adorable; there was absolutely no stopping the giggle that bubbled up in the artist’s throat. He watched as Frank struggled to chew and swallow his food, nearly knocking over his bowl in the process.

This only made Gerard laugh harder, and by the time Frank had managed to finish his bite and set his bowl on the coffee table Gerard was cracking up.

When he finally got his laughter under control, he looked over to find Frank staring at him with an expression that somehow managed to be a pout and astonishment at the same time.

He was still smiling as he took the napkin over and handed it to Frank to wipe his mouth, grabbing his coffee off the table as he passed. He then sat down on the couch, this time closer to the middle--closer to Frank-- than he had been the night before and, as he drank his coffee, he was surprised to find that he was already mostly awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Italian dialogue says  
> "That's amazing..."  
> "Good morning!"  
> "Fuck I'm sorry!"
> 
> Big thanks to those of you who left nice comments on the first chapter! I really appreciate them all!


	3. Chapter 3

Mikey headed up the front walk and knocked on the door to his brother’s apartment. He wasn’t actually expecting an answer; he’d texted Gerard twice to let him know that he was coming over and both had gone unanswered. According to his phone, Gerard hadn’t even read the messages. That wasn’t really unusual, though, it just meant the artist was probably wrapped up in some project and hadn’t bothered to look at his phone in a while.

After several minutes of standing there, Mikey got tired of being ignored. Rolling his eyes, he was about to open the door himself and just walk in when it suddenly swung open and Mikey was face to face with a guy he’d never seen before.

“You must be Frank,” Mikey said mostly to himself, but Frank heard his name and nodded enthusiastically.

“Ciao!” he greeted, recognizing Mikey from a photo Gerard had of the two of them taped up to the refrigerator.  “Mi dispiace...English… no good…” he added, pointing to himself as Mikey stepped inside and closed the door.

Mikey just shrugged at the confession. He’d taken Italian all throughout high school and, while he wasn’t quite completely fluent in the language, he could certainly hold a conversation.

“Va bene, io parlo Italiano,” he responded, and watched with amusement as Frank’s face lit up.

“Sei il fratello di Gerard, giusto?” he asked, following Mikey into the kitchen as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.

“Sì, il mio nome è Mikey.”

“Mikey,” Frank repeated, committing it to his memory. Mikey nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

It wasn’t long before the two were engaged in an animated conversation. Frank was thrilled to have someone to talk to that actually understood him in his native language and Mikey was glad for the opportunity to practice his skills in a real life situation. The stupid examples of conversation in his textbooks had been alright when he was learning, but they were useless when it came to anything else. No one actually talked like that. No one that Mikey had ever met, anyway.

When Gerard finally decided to show his face forty-five minutes later, he was caught completely off guard by Mikey’s presence. He blinked a few times in confusion, like he couldn’t comprehend how his little brother had possibly gotten into his kitchen.

“Hey, Gee,” Mikey greeted, “it’s about damn time.” His tone was light and there was a small, teasing smile on his face. Gerard ignored the greeting and stole Mikey’s coffee. He received an annoyed glare for his efforts but he really didn’t care because Mikey let him keep the warm drink.

“Gerard!” Frank finally spoke up, causing the man in question to look his way. “Mikey parlo Italiano!” he told him excitedly.

“He told you I speak Italian,” Mikey translated because Gerard looked completely confused.

Gerard just nodded slowly, then stated at the two younger men until his brain decided to catch up with him. Frank giggled at his blank expression.

In all honesty, Gerard had totally forgotten that Mikey had chosen to learn Italian in school. No one else in their immediate family or mutual circle of friends spoke the language, so he’d never really gotten to hear his brother converse in Italian before now.

Gerard was snapped into reality when he suddenly felt someone’s arms around him.

“I missed you,” Mikey mumbled as Gerard moved to hug him back.

When they pulled apart Gerard ruffled up Mikey’s hair, messing it up and causing Mikey to roll his eyes again as he tried to smooth it back down. _I missed you, too, Mikes,_  it said, and Mikey got the message loud and clear.

Gerard’s mutism was hardly something new. It had been years since anyone had heard his voice and it had been extremely difficult for everyone at first. There had been several occasions where people would go on speaking to Gerard like nothing had changed. When they didn’t get anything back except silence and the occasional bit of body language, they would often become extremely frustrated with Gerard.

As time wore on, though, the people that Gerard interacted with regularly began to get used to him. They began to pick up on his subtle, non-verbal ways of communication, and eventually it was almost like he’d never stopped speaking.

Mikey had always been the best at deciphering his brother’s language. They had always shared a special connection, one that only close siblings could ever understand, and they’d been holding silent conversations with each other long before Gerard had stopped speaking. Because of that, Mikey had never had a problem figuring out what Gerard was trying to say, making the transition from spoken language to silence smooth and easy for them.

The only thing Mikey didn’t know was _why_ his brother had suddenly gone silent, but that was a secret that Gerard hadn’t shared with anyone.

* * *

“Gerard!” Mikey shouted, closing the refrigerator door a little too forcefully in his annoyance.

Gerard, who had gone back to his bedroom to finish something up a little while before, poked his head into the kitchen and gave Mikey a questioning look.

“Are you aware that you have no damn food in your apartment?” he demanded. Gerard just shrugged, then stepped fully into the kitchen to check in the small pantry. When Mikey stepped up beside him to peer in, he wasn’t surprised to find that empty as well.

“Cosa sta succedendo?” Frank asked, suddenly appearing at Gerard’s other side.

“Mio fratello è un idiota,” Mikey answered, which made Gerard glare at him for a moment. Even if Gerard couldn’t speak the language, it was pretty obvious what Mikey had just called him. The younger Way brother just ignored it and told Gerard to go shower so they could go to the store.

When Gerard appeared a few minutes later, fully dressed and holding his keys, both he and Mikey walked out the door without another word. They were both settled into Gerard’s car before Mikey realized Frank hadn’t followed them.

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself, unbuckling his seat belt and jumping out. Gerard looked amused, and Mikey realized that he’d known Frank hadn’t followed the entire time and had just been waiting to see how long it would take his brother to figure it out also. “Asshole!” Mikey shouted as he ran back inside.

He found Frank sitting at the kitchen table with a book propped open in front of him.

“Frank,” he said flatly, startling him into dropping his book closed. “Dai, sali in macchina.”

Frank looked confused for a moment, then smiled and stood up to follow Mikey back out to the car.

It wasn’t until they actually got to the store that Mikey started to regret this decision. When they’d first stepped into the store, Gerard and Frank had immediately tried to take off in opposite directions and Mikey had to grab Frank’s hand and shout after Gerard to slow down a little as he explained to Frank that he needed to stay with Gerard. Frank pouted and Mikey felt like the parent instead of the second youngest of the three.

About twenty minutes into their exploration of the grocery store, Frank got a little too excited over something Gerard had tossed into the cart and ended up knocking over a neatly stacked display of packaged cookies. He cursed loudly in Italian, then picked them up and re-stacked them the best that he could.

When he was done, the display looked significantly more sloppy than it had before Frank had backed into it, but at least the cookies were off the floor. Mikey tossed an apologetic smile over his shoulder at the store employee who kept giving them dirty looks.

Things went relatively smoothly after that. There was a small incident at the checkout counter--the girl working there had started to get a little bitchy with Gerard when he refused to acknowledge her blatant flirting, and Frank had decided to defend him very loudly and in Italian. Eventually Mikey ended up telling the girl to go fuck herself before pulling Frank out of the store. Gerard followed behind with their groceries.

Once they’d gotten home and Frank had helped Gerard put the groceries away, Gerard got started on dinner and Frank went to sit beside Mikey on the couch. He watched curiously as Mikey flipped quickly through the book that Frank had left on the table, skimming pages every so often just because he could. He handed it back to Frank after a while, suddenly more interested in talking than reading.

“Perchè stavi urlando contro quella ragazza?” he asked finally. Frank shrugged.

“Lei era essere scortese,” he replied. The way his cheeks darkened just a little didn’t escape Mikey’s eye.

“Lei non sapeva nemmeno quello che dicevi,” the younger Way reminded him, and Frank just shrugged again.

They had settled into a comfortable silence after that. Mikey had turned on the television and was watching some show that Frank probably would have found a lot more interesting if he could actually understand it. He was about to open up his book again when something else caught his eye.

Mikey was so engrossed in his program that he didn’t even notice Frank shift his position so that he could watch Gerard, who was still standing at the stove. His back was to Frank as he was busy stirring whatever was in the large pot on the front burner, giving Frank a nice view of his ass as he swayed to an imaginary beat.  

They stayed like that for a while, each wrapped up in their own little world, until a giggle from Frank caught Mikey’s attention. He glanced over to see the younger boy up on his knees and peering over the back of the couch.

“Cosa stai facendo?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Frank doesn’t turn around when he answers.

“Tuo fratello è molto carina.”

“Dude...” Mikey said, too caught off guard to remember to speak Italian. “What the fuck?”

Gerard turned around then to stare at Mikey, and Frank tried to turn around and sit back down at the same time. He ended up losing his balance completely and falling off the couch, landing on the floor with a loud thump and a groan.

Mikey looked down at Frank, then up to his brother’s concerned looking face, and then back at Frank again.

“Lordo,” he said, then got up to help Gerard set the table, leaving Frank sprawled out on the floor and pouting.

Mikey left shortly after dinner. Frank had disappeared into his bedroom not long after that, leaving Gerard alone in the quiet of the living room. For a while he just sat there on the couch thinking the day over. He wondered if Mikey liked Frank, and if Frank liked Mikey. They seemed to be getting along pretty well from what Gerard saw, but just because they were talking to each other didn’t necessarily mean that they liked one another.

After a while the quiet became too much for Gerard. Ever since Frank had arrived, Gerard had become accustomed to having him by his side whenever he sat in the living room. It felt odd to be sitting alone here now, like something was slightly off. He didn’t like it at all.

Frank was laying in bed when he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door. He’d retreated to his room rather early that night. He felt a bit bad leaving Gerard by himself, but his stomach had been bothering him and he’d just wanted to lay down. He had been resting for about a half hour when the knock came.

“Si accomodi,” he called, knowing exactly who it was at the door. When the door didn’t open, Frank remembered that he had to speak English if he wanted to be understood. He thought hard for a few moments, wracking his brain for the correct words to let Gerard know it was okay to enter. When the only thing he found was an oncoming headache, Frank sighed and dragged himself up to open the door himself.

When Frank appeared in the doorway, Gerard couldn’t help but frown. It was obvious that he had woken Frank up, or at least pulled him out of bed. The light in the room was switched off, leaving it almost completely dark beyond the light of the hallway that the open door let in. Frank himself was standing there dressed only in a pair of boxers. His hair was messy and Gerard could see him shivering slightly.

He cast Frank a glance that he hoped conveyed his apology for waking him up, then turned to walk away and let Frank get back to sleep. He’d only gotten about one step, though, when he felt Frank’s hand reach out and grab the back of his shirt.

“Please... ?” was all Frank said, and Gerard was surprised to hear the hesitation in his usually steady voice.

He allowed Frank to pull him into his room and close the door, then watched as he curled back up in his bed. Not quite sure what he was supposed to do, Gerard just stood there in the middle of the dark room until Frank reached out in a silent invitation.

Frank’s head was in Gerard’s lap the moment he’d settled down. When Frank let out a little whimper, Gerard’s hand instantly began to stroke through his hair, something he used to do for Mikey whenever he’d come to his big brother seeking comfort.

It wasn’t long before Frank relaxed enough to fall asleep. Gerard kept up stroking through Frank’s hair, listening to his even breathing until he fell asleep as well with his back against the wall and a hand still resting over Frank’s temple.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot more Italian dialogue in this one. Here are the translations:  
> Ciao: Hello  
> Mi dispiace: I'm sorry  
> Va bene, io parlo Italiano: It's okay, I speak Italian  
> Sei il fratello di Gerard, giusto?: You're Gerard's brother, right?  
> Sì, il mio nome è Mikey: Yes, my name is Mikey  
> Mikey parlo Italiano: Mikey speaks Italian  
> Cosa sta succedendo?: What's happening?  
> Mio fratello è un idiota: My brother is an idiot  
> Dai, sali in macchina: Come on, get in the car  
> Perchè stavi urlando contro quella ragazza?: Why were you yelling at that girl?  
> Lei era essere scortese: She was being rude  
> Lei non sapeva nemmeno quello che dicevi: She didn't even know what you were saying  
> Cosa stai facendo?: What are you doing?  
> Tuo fratello è molto carina: Your brother is very pretty  
> Lordo: Gross  
> Si accomodi: Come in


	4. Chapter 4

When Gerard awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the soreness in his back and neck from sleeping sitting up against a wall. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t woken up in his bed, but one glance down to the boy that was still using his lap as a pillow brought everything back.

The second thing he noticed was Frank. His hair was dampened with sweat and he was shivering much more violently than he had been the night before.

Not wanting to wake him, Gerard made sure to be as gentle and light as possible when he moved his hand to Frank’s forehead, then down to his cheek. They felt very warm to the touch, which only confirmed what Gerard had been almost positive of already; Frank was burning up.

Very slowly, Gerard attempted to slide himself out from under Frank. He froze when he heard a soft whimper, immediately followed by Frank shifting. Once he’d settled again, Gerard was able to get to his feet. He replaced one of the numerous pillows under Frank’s head, then silently stretched his sore muscles before slipping out of the room.

Once he’d had a cup of coffee and cleared some of the fog from his mind, Gerard began to worry slightly. He tried to think back to his younger years, of when he or Mikey would get sick and what their mother would do to care for them, but he just kept drawing a blank.

He was almost finished with his second cup of coffee when the sound of the toilet flushing let him know that Frank had woken up. He came shuffling into the kitchen moments later, looking miserable and swaying on his feet.

Abandoning his coffee, Gerard got to his feet and went to Frank’s side, concern clearly displayed across his face.

For several moments, Frank didn’t even acknowledge his presence. He just stared blankly at a random spot on the counter, and Gerard wasn’t sure Frank even know he was there.

He placed a gentle hand on the sick boy’s shoulder, causing him to jump despite the fact that Gerard had been standing in front of him. The sudden movement caused a  wave of nausea and dizziness to wash over him. He managed to hold back the gag that tried to crawl up his throat, but he had to lean into Gerard to keep from stumbling and collapsing onto the kitchen floor. The look of concern on Gerard’s face deepened as he wrapped his arms around Frank, who put most of his weight on the artist as soon as he was sure Gerard’s hold on him was secure.

Frank looked up at him pathetically. His cheeks and nose were red and his forehead shone with sweat. His hair was sticking out in odd directions and Gerard couldn’t stop himself from lifting one hand up to gently comb his fingers through it like he’d done the night before. Frank responded to the action by pressing his face into Gerard’s shoulder, nuzzling softly and then groaning.

“Non mi sento bene,” he complained, and the words came out muffled. Gerard nodded despite the fact that he had no idea what Frank had said and dropped his hand down from Frank’s hair to his back. He began to rub slow circles between Frank’s shoulder blades, trying his best to comfort him.

When Frank started shivering again several moments later, Gerard remembered that Frank shouldn’t really be out here at all; he should be in bed resting. Frank, however, didn’t seem to agree. He didn’t budge when Gerard tried to lead him back to his bedroom. Instead he planted his feet the best that he could in his weakened state and wrapped his arms tighter around Gerard’s middle.

Gerard couldn’t help the exasperated smile that crossed his face. Frank really did resemble a child throwing a tantrum when he did things like that, but Gerard decided that he could overlook it this time because Frank was so sick.

Besides, Gerard had a way of making Frank cooperate with him whether he liked it or not. He shifted his hands a little, and Frank let out a confused yelp as he was suddenly lifted off his feet and carried bridal style back to his bedroom. Once there, Gerard carefully laid Frank down on his bed. Frank proceeded to pout at him while Gerard pulled the comforter up and over him. He continued to pout even after Gerard had left the room, this time directing it at the closed bedroom door and hoping it would somehow reach wherever Gerard had disappeared to.

Eventually, though, he just didn’t have the energy to keep up the little attitude he was displaying. His pout morphed into a lonely little frown as he sank back against his pillow. He really hated being sick. His nose was running like a faucet, his throat felt itchy and uncomfortable, his ears hurt, and the nausea churning around in his stomach didn’t seem to want to settle. He was cold and weak, and his body would not stop trembling. He felt absolutely miserable and, as he closed his eyes, he didn’t even bother to try and bite back the pitiful whine that bubbled out of his mouth.

The next time he opened them, he was surprised to find Gerard sitting on the floor beside his mattress with an open sketchbook laying across his lap. He seemed to be really absorbed in whatever it was he was sketching, and Frank used the opportunity to attempt to see what Gerard was bringing to life on the page. The angle he was at prevented it, though, and all Frank was able to see was dark shaded patches. Frank shifted slightly so that he could prop himself up on his elbows in order to get a better view of Gerard’s sketchbook, but the movement was far from subtle and the rustling of Frank’s body against the sheets pulled Gerard’s attention from the artwork.

Before Frank was able to get a better look, Gerard closed his sketchbook and set it aside. Frank was about to turn his pout on full force to let the artist know how displeased he was with not being able to see the drawing, but then Gerard smiled at him and Frank’s thoughts immediately shifted to how pretty Gerard was when he smiled.

***

Frank let out an extremely unhappy whine as he finally took a piece of toasted bread off the plate that Gerard was holding out to him. He really, really didn’t want to eat it. He hasn’t eaten a single thing all day, though, and he could just hear his mother’s firm voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he needed to have something in his system. He didn’t think he could stomach chicken noodle soup so Gerard had made him two pieces of plain toast instead.

It turned out that Frank couldn’t stomach that either. He was almost finished with the first piece when the nausea spiked up again. Frank coughed a couple of times and dropped the remaining corner of his food back onto the plate. When the coughing turned into gagging, Gerard gave him a worried look and reached out to rub Frank’s shoulder. Frank tried desperately to swallow down the awful feeling in his chest and throat but his efforts were not rewarded.

Frank pressed a hand tightly over his mouth and jumped up. The dizziness in his head from the sudden rapid movement almost caused him to lose his balance and fall back down but he managed to stay on his feet as he sprinted from the room and into the bathroom.

Gerard just sat there for a moment, unsure of what he should do. This was the first time he’d seen Frank sick and he wasn’t sure if he would want to be comforted or just left alone until he was finished. It only took Gerard another few seconds to get to his feet and follow Frank out of the room. If Frank wanted to be left in peace, Gerard figured he would let him know.

When Gerard knocked softly on the closed bathroom door, he was answered with a groan. The groan was immediately followed by loud retching.

The bathroom door ended up being locked, which served as a good answer to Gerard’s question of whether or not Frank wanted to be alone. He figured Frank would probably want to rinse his mouth when he was done so he stepped away from the door and went to the kitchen to give Frank some privacy and fill up a glass with water.

Frank emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later looking incredibly pale and exhausted. When he spotted Gerard sitting on the couch, he dragged himself over and collapsed into a little ball beside him. He made a point not to look at the sympathetic frown that Gerard was giving him, but gladly accepted the water that he offered and sipped at it until his mouth no longer felt completely disgusting. He then took one slightly bigger sip to soothe his bone-dry throat and set the glass down on the coffee table.

The only thing Frank wanted now was to curl up in his bed and sleep, but he was too drained to even think about pulling himself up off the couch. He decided that the next best option would be to sleep there on the couch. It was pretty comfortable as a makeshift bed and would require minimal movement for Frank to shift into a position that he could sleep comfortably in. The only downside was that his comforter and pillow were still in his room, but Gerard was warm and soft and still sitting right beside him so Frank just pressed himself into Gerard’s side.

As he was closing his eyes, Frank felt Gerard’s arm wrap around him. He was surprised by how much the action relaxed him, secretly pleased that Gerard wanted to keep him close.

The last thing Frank remembered before crashing out was some movement above him and a warm blanket being laid out over him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non mi sento bene: I don't feel well


	5. Chapter 5

Frank spent the entirety of that week sick as hell and miserable. When he wasn’t bundled up tightly in his bed trying (and failing) to get some actual decent sleep, he was pressed into Gerard’s side, using him as his own personal heater and pillow. He discovered pretty quickly that he always slept a lot better when Gerard was watching over him. Whether it was a coincidence or not, Frank didn’t know. Gerard seemed to pick up on it too, though, and had taken to sitting on the floor beside Frank’s bed whenever he happened to end up in his room.

During the time he spent watching over Frank, Gerard would either read or sketch quietly. He usually had a cup of coffee and his mobile phone somewhere within his reach, pausing every so often to take a sip or text a reply back to Mikey.

Whenever Frank woke up, Gerard would give him a small smile before getting to his feet and leaving the room to make Frank some hot tea and something very light to eat. Sometimes Frank would eat the food and sometimes he would leave it, but he always drank the tea. Gerard had somehow figured out how to make it just the way Frank liked, and Frank couldn’t recall ever telling Gerard how he prepared his ideal cup of tea. That meant that Gerard had picked it up simply from paying attention. The realization made an odd feeling bubble up on Frank’s chest, and this time it wasn’t nausea.

Eight days after the start of his nasty flu, Frank woke up feeling much, _much_ better. He went bounding out of his room on his renewed energy and strength. Instead of finding Gerard in the kitchen looking grumpy and swallowing down coffee like his life depended on it like usual, Frank found a note. It was folded neatly and placed in the center of the table. His name was written on the paper in Gerard’s large handwriting. When he picked it up and carefully unfolded it, Frank was surprised to see that the ,message inside was written in Italian.

_Andato fuori per un po. Essere di nuovo più tardi. Mikey tradotto. Lui è fantastico e io sono zoppo._

At the bottom of the page, Gerard had signed with a capital ‘G’.

Frank giggled as he put the note back down on the table. That last line had obviously been entirely Mikey’s input. Gerard had probably meant to tell him that he hoped his brother had told him the correct translations or something along those lines and had no idea that Mikey had used the opportunity to poke fun at him.

Frank exited the kitchen and started making his way to the bathroom so he could get a shower. He was about halfway there when he stopped, turned around, and went quickly back into the kitchen to scoop the note up off the table once more. The thought of Gerard taking the time to text Mikey just so that he leave Frank a message that he’d understand brought a warm smile to his face. Gerard hadn’t wanted him to worry when he woke up to an empty apartment, and that really meant a lot to Frank. On his way back to the bathroom, he made a detour to his bedroom and tucked the note between the pages of one of his books for safe keeping.

Once he was showered and dressed, Frank decided that he really needed to get out of the apartment. He’d been cooped up inside for the past week and he was in dire need of some fresh air and sunshine. He double checked to make sure he had his wallet, cigarettes, and mobile phone, then pulled on his worn Chucks and grabbed the key that Gerard had given him off the hook by the front door so he could lock it behind him.

Frank hadn’t really had the opportunity to explore his new town yet. He’d be starting a job stocking shelves and checking inventory after hours in the community college bookstore pretty soon and he figured it would probably be helpful to have at least some idea of the way around. He’d also been meaning to check out the local shops and other places around.

He walked in the general direction of where the college was supposed to be, deciding to go there first. When the urge for a cigarette hit him, he absently dug one out and placed it between his lips. When he searched his pockets for a lighter, though, he came up empty. He cursed under his breath as he realized that he must have left it on the windowsill in his room.

“Merda,” he whined once the cigarette had been taken from his lips and placed behind his ear. He really didn’t feel like walking all the way back to the apartment just to get his lighter. He remembered seeing a gas station with an attached convenience store on the day he’d moved in. He was pretty sure he could buy a lighter there, but he’d have to go the opposite way than he’d been planning once he reached the end of the street.

When he reached the point where he had to make a decision, it wasn’t actually a hard one. He really wanted a cigarette, and he could probably just ask Gerard to show him exactly how to get to the school later anyway.

The gas station wasn’t too far down the road from that point, and Frank was finally able to get his hands on a lighter. It was a really shitty lighter, a red one that apparently had a tendency to stick, but after a few tries he was able to get it to light his cigarette so he really didn’t care. He walked while he smoked, heading toward a small record store that he remembered Mikey mentioning when he’d been over the previous week.

He realized that he must have made a wrong turn somewhere when he ended up in an area that looked completely unfamiliar to him. He gave up trying to get to the record store and started focusing on how the hell to get back to his apartment. Retracing his steps somehow only managed to get him even more lost, and eventually he had to stop and call Mikey. After taking several moments to laugh at Frank and his horrible sense of direction, Mikey finally decided to be helpful and guide him home.

Gerard was kneeling on the kitchen floor when Frank walked in. There was newspaper laid down across most of the floor, protecting it from the paints that Gerard was using. In front of him was a huge canvas, the half painted image of an old and abandoned looking diner coming to life under his steady hand.

He looked up when he heard the front door bang open and then slam shut. Frank appeared in the kitchen doorway and giggled at something, though Gerard wasn’t sure what. He gave Frank a confused little smile and nodded in greeting, which Frank returned with an enthusiastic wave of his hand.

“Perchè sei sul pavimento?” Frank asked. He pointed down at the floor, then shrugged his shoulders and pointed at Gerard in hopes of helping him to understand the question.

Before Gerard could do anything, though, Frank caught sight of the painting. He watched Frank’s expression change from casual excitement to one of curiosity and admiration as he took a hesitant step closer to peer over Gerard’s shoulder.

Gerard went back to painting and Frank continued to silently watch from behind.

The feeling of having someone loom over him started to get uncomfortable after a while. He wasn’t used to having an audience while he worked. Normally he wouldn’t allow anyone to watch him while he worked; the knowledge that someone was sitting _right there_ and watching his every stroke made him clam up. His hand would start to shake, causing him to produce work that was far less than his best. That, in turn, only stressed him out more, creating a vicious cycle that could only be broken by throwing whoever was around out of the room, taking the time to calm down, and then starting over on a completely new page.

His hand stilled over the canvas as he tried to think of a way to communicate this to Frank. Before he could figure it out, though, he was hit with the realization that he actually _liked_ having Frank there. His tongue darted out and swiped across his lower lip wet it as he tried to figure it out. Frank had the exact opposite effect on him that everyone else had. His presence made Gerard feel relaxed rather than anxious and he didn’t know _why_.

Gerard decided then that he wanted Frank to stay. Instead of forcing him from the room, Gerard carefully scooted himself over. He narrowly missed knocking over a container of paint so he took a moment to move that over before looking up at Frank and patting at the spot he’d just made for him. Frank looked confused for a moment, but he sat down anyway. Gerard smiled at him, then went back to work.

After a while Gerard’s wrist and back and knees started to hurt. He’d been leaning over his canvas in the same position for hours, barely moving at all. He didn’t really feel like packing up all his paints and brushes, especially since he’d just have to pull them all out again later if he didn’t finish the painting right now. There wasn’t too much left to do and, since it was a personal project rather than a commissioned piece, he knew he’d probably never finish it if he stopped now.

He was about to just work through the pain when he remembered Mikey saying something about Frank being pretty decent with a paint brush himself. He glanced over at him as he stood up to stretch his sore muscles, not noticing the look Frank gave him back as he did so. When he sat back down, he picked his brush back up and held it out to Frank.

For a few seconds Frank didn’t take it. Instead he stared at Gerard like he’d never seen a paint brush in his life and had no idea what he was supposed to do with it. Gerard gave him a little smile and pushed the brush toward him again. That seemed to break whatever it was that had come over Frank and he reached out to slowly take the brush.

“I can do…?” Frank asked softly in slightly broken English, gesturing to the painting in front of them. Gerard nodded and placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder. He gave it a slight squeeze, then let it slide off as Frank popped up onto his knees to pick up where Gerard had left off.

Once Frank had put the last of the fine details into the painting, he sat back to admire the work. He smiled to himself because Gerard was damn good at what he did. Sure, Frank had spent the past hour and a half adding some of the small details, but Gerard had done the bulk of the work himself. Frank was just glad he hadn’t messed the thing up with his far inferior skills.

He shoved that thought from his mind immediately, turning instead to aim his smile at Gerard. He held out the paintbrush to him, acting like he was going to hand it back. When Gerard reached out to take it though, Frank quickly jerked his hand up to swipe a green line of paint under Gerard’s right eye. He burst into giggles as Gerard just say there and looked at him with a completely dumbfounded expression on his face.

He dropped the brush down onto the newspaper then, making sure that it fell from a low enough height that it wouldn’t splatter onto the still wet artwork, their clothes, or the kitchen floor. When he was sure that Gerard’s face was the only victim of the green dipped brush, Frank jumped up and took off down the hall before Gerard could recover enough from the shock of the prank to get Frank back.

Frank was still giggling as the door to his bedroom slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's note to Frank says 'Went out for a while. Be back later. Mikey translated. He is fantastic and I'm lame.'  
> Merda: Shit   
> Perchè sei sul pavimento?: Why are you on the floor? 
> 
> I actually have a note this time other than just the translations. I'm flying out to see my fiance in KY. I leave Feb 20th and will be gone for two weeks. Unfortunately I probably won't have the chance to write while I'm gone so the next chapter or the one after that might be a bit delayed. I'm going to try to get one more chapter up before I go on my trip, but no promises. If I don't make it, I promise to have it up within a week of when I return. Thanks for understanding!


	6. Chapter 6

Frank hid in his room for a little over an hour before he deemed it safe to creep back out. He figured Gerard would have cleaned up all his paints by that point and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting back what he’d dished out earlier.

Unfortunately for Frank, Gerard had an entirely different idea. After he’d taken the painting and hung it on the line that he had set up in his room to dry, he’d gone back into the kitchen to wait for Frank, fully intent on returning his little gift.

Frank didn’t see it coming at all. The angle of the kitchen doorway to where Gerard was standing completely hid him from view. He thought Gerard had gone back to his room, so it came as a complete shock when he stepped into Frank’s path and made a long, thick stripe down the front of Frank’s shirt in bright red paint.

“Fanculo!” Frank shrieked, flailing his arms dramatically and staring down at his ruined t-shirt. When he looked up he realized that Gerard was _grinning_ at him. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like the Italian word for ‘bastard’, then smeared his hand in the paint on his shirt and wiped it off on Gerard’s. Gerard retaliated by picking up a jar of paint that was still out on the floor, opening it up, and pouring it over Frank’s head, which launched an all out paint war in their kitchen.

Eventually they ran out of paint to fling at each other. Both were flushed and breathing heavily, facing each other in the middle of the room. There was paint splattered everywhere, but neither of them seemed to notice as they stood there trying to catch their breath.

“Molto carina,” Frank whispers after several moments of silence, and Gerard quirked an eyebrow at him. He had no idea what Frank had just said, but the softness of his tone and the way his face turned a slightly deeper shade of red after he said it made Gerard think that maybe those words were important. He’d have to ask Mikey about it later.

For now, though, Frank had a ton of paint drying in his hair and Gerard figured he should probably try to get some of it out. He reached up and ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, hoping the action would knock some of the loose paint free.

Frank, however, had already forgotten about the mess in his hair. His heartbeat picked up and a warmth blossomed in his chest as Gerard reached out and touched him.

It wasn’t until Gerard pulled his hand back and looked down at the pink paint that had stuck to it from Frank’s hair that Frank realized that Gerard hadn’t actually been trying to kiss him. His flush darkened yet again, but neither Frank nor Gerard seemed to notice how close their faces had become.

Mikey was horrified at what he found when he swung open the kitchen door a moment later. He’d just wanted to make sure that Frank had made it back okay. He was so not prepared for whatever the hell he’d just walked into.

Frank and Gerard were startled by his entrance, and Mikey probably would have found that amusing if he wasn’t trying to process the fact that his brother and Frank had just looked like they were about to fucking kiss before he’d interrupted, and the fact that the kitchen was totally wrecked with paint.

“What the fuck?” he finally asked because nothing about this situation made an ounce of sense to him. “Why does it look like a unicorn projectile vomited all over everything in here?”

Neither one of them really had an answer for him.

It took almost four hours to get the kitchen looking somewhat presentable again. Mikey refused to help because there was just no way he was going to get his good jeans and favourite sweatshirt covered in paint, so the job fell entirely to Frank and Gerard.

Once they were done, Frank immediately went to take his second shower of the day. Gerard had somehow ended up with far less paint on himself than Frank had so, instead of waiting for Frank to finish scrubbing the dried paint out of his hair, he just knelt over the freshly cleaned sink and washed his hair there.

When Gerard finished, he wrung his hair out the best that he could before heading to his room to change into clean clothes. He cast a glance at the closed bathroom door before closing his own.

Mikey waited a few minutes before following him in. He didn’t bother to knock, just opened the door and slipped inside. Gerard was smoothing down his paint-free t-shirt as Mikey closed the door again and made himself comfortable on his brother’s bed.

For a while Gerard just ignored him. Mikey watched as he paced around the room for a minute or two, then collapsed heavily into the chair by his desk. When Mikey refused to leave him in peace, Gerard finally exhaled a silent sigh and turned to look at Mikey, letting him know it was okay to talk.

“What were you doing with Frank when I walked in, Gee?” he asked, and Gerard pretended to not know what Mikey was talking about. Mikey dug a quarter out of his pocket and threw it lightly at his brother. Gerard glared at him when it bounced off his thigh, but he also pulled his phone out to text back his reply.

_Nothing…_ he typed, shrugging slightly as Mikey’s phone chimed a few feet away.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Mikey said once he’d read the text, and Gerard just shrugged again.”You like him.”

Gerard nearly choked on his own saliva as his fingers flew over his keypad.

_What the fuck, Mikey, I do not!_ he defended, but Mikey just shook his head as he read it.

“Uh, yeah, you definitely do,” Mikey argued with a shake of his head. “He likes you, too, fuckface, so you should really just kiss him already.”

The colour across Gerard’s face darkened considerably. He shook his head rapidly because, even if he did like Frank a tiny little bit, there was just no way in hell that Frank could ever possibly like him back. Mikey rolled his eyes.

“You’re a dumbass,” he said, then pushed himself up off Gerard’s bed and let himself out of the room, intentionally leaving the door open a crack just to be an asshole.

He went to Frank’s room next. The bathroom was dark and empty, and Frank’s bedroom door was closed so Mikey figured there was a good chance Frank would be inside. He knocked on the door this time and waited to be invited in because he didn’t know how long Frank had been out of the shower and he really didn’t need to barge in and find him naked.

He didn’t have to wait long before the door opened and Frank appeared. He looked confused for a moment, and Miked realized it was probably because he’d been expecting Gerard at his door instead. He seemed to register Mikey’s face pretty quickly though, and once he did the confusion melted away into an excited smile.

“Ciao, Mikey!” he greeted, then stepped aside so Mikey could come in. Mikey waved to him in response, and once he’d entered Frank kicked the door closed.

Mikey surveyed the room. He considered sitting down on Frank’s bed like he’d done in his brother’s room, then decided to just lean up against the dresser instead. For a while he just watched Frank, who was armed with a hairbrush and engaged in a battle against his damp and tangled hair. From what Mikey could see, Frank was losing.

“Frank,” Mikey said eventually, and Frank paused in his attempt to tame his hair in order to give Mikey his attention. “Che cosa stavi facendo in cucina con Gee?”

Frank’s tongue played with the silver ring in his lower lip and his face scrunched up in thought. It looked like he was trying to decide if he should say something, or contemplating the best way to say it. Mikey sat quietly as he waited, watching Frank with genuine interest.

“Um…,” Frank eventually got out, then paused to toss his hairbrush at his dresser top. He winced slightly when it bounced off the edge and rolled across the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up. “Lo fa come me?”

Mikey rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his skull. Frank bounced on the balls of his feet nervously as he waited for a response.

“Ew,” Mikey huffed, then added more softly, “molto.”

Frank’s face lit up and he started bouncing harder. This earned him an amused snort from Mikey, which Frank proceeded to ignore.

“Davvero?” he asked, to which Mikey just nodded.

Once Mikey had left, Frank flopped down onto his bed and pulled one of his spare pillows close to his chest. He hugged it tight, then pressed it to his face to hide the face-splitting grin that had taken him over.

***

Gerard waited five days before taking the painting down off the drying line. He very gently ran his fingers over the surface to make sure it really was dry, then carefully took it over to lay it down on his desk. He didn't touch it again for several hours; he was waiting for a time when he was sure Frank wouldn't interrupt him.

Finally there was a single loud knock on his door and a shout in Frank's cheery voice. Gerard recognized it as the way Frank had started using to let him know that he was going out. The lack of a second knock told Gerard that he wouldn't be gone too long so, as soon as Gerard heard the front door slam, he gathered up the things he'd need and brought them all out to the kitchen.

Once he’d gotten everything neatly set out, Gerard used a acrylic marker to add his signature lower case ‘g’ to the bottom right corner in black. He stared at if for a few seconds, then impulsively added another two letters, an ‘x’ and an ‘o’, right above his signature.  

Once the marker had dried up enough so that it wouldn’t smudge, Gerard began the process of mounting the painting in a wooden frame. When he was finished, he stepped back to look over his work.

When he was sure everything was straight, Gerard leaned the framed painting against the kitchen counter so it would be out of his way while he picked up his materials and put them away. He grabbed a post-it note and a regular ball point pen from his bedroom on the way back to the kitchen. He thought for a moment, then just wrote Frank’s name in stylized letters on the post-it. In his haste to finish his task before Frank got back, Gerard didn’t even notice that he’d forgotten a letter, spelling out F-R-N-K on the little paper square.

He remained oblivious to his mistake as he stuck the paper to the top of the frame and carried it into Frank’s room; it was only as he was propping the artwork up against Frank’s desk that he caught the error. He frowned at it, trying to decide whether or not to re-write the note when Frank came home and made choice for him.

He slipped quietly from the room, heading back into his own to change into a pair of baggy lounge pants and grab his personal sketchbook before going out to join Frank on the living room sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanculo!: Fuck!  
> Molto carina: Very pretty   
> Ciao, Mikey!: Hello, Mikey!  
> Che cosa stavi facendo in cucina con Gee?: What were you doing in the kitchen with Gee?   
> Lo fa come me?: Does he like me?   
> Molto: Very much   
> Davvero?: For real?
> 
> Hey, everyone! I'm back from Kentucky! Technically I still have three minutes before I break my promise of getting this up within a week of my return date so I'm counting that as a victory. I actually ended up staying in KY an extra day, then missing my flight the next morning due to horrid traffic and weather conditions, but eventually I made it back. Updates should go back to normal pace now.


	7. Chapter 7

Frank didn’t notice the painting until the next afternoon. He’d spent the better part of the previous night watching old horror films with Gerard. Frank knew the films well enough to follow despite the fact that they were in English; he’d seen them all more times than he could count and knew them like the back of his hand.

Gerard, it seemed, knew them just as well; Frank couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face each time he caught sight of Gerard, who was silently mouthing the lines along with the actors on screen. Frank was pretty sure he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. The thought made him giggle, which caused Gerard to pause in his nonverbal role of Doctor Frankenstein and give him an odd look. Frank gave him a smile, then turned his attention back to the movie.

It was after three in the morning when Frank had finally stumbled off to his room. He went straight for the bed the moment he entered, not even bothering to pull back the covers before collapsing on top of it.

It was almost two o’clock when Gerard finally heard signs of life coming from Frank’s bedroom. He was stretched out on his bed with an age worn comic propped open in front of him when a loud crash echoed through the hallway. It was followed by a few muffled Italian expletives, and then a sound that Gerard was pretty sure were Frank’s feet stomping off toward the kitchen.

Frank glared at the coffee machine. He was tired and annoyed, and the damn thing wasn’t making his coffee fast enough. He relaxed his face, but he was still extremely irritated and in desperate need of coffee so he flipped the machine off with one hand as he reached up to grab a mug with the other. The appliance blinked and gave a cheery little beep in response, indicating to Frank that his coffee was finally ready.

It was later that afternoon that Frank finally noticed the painting that Gerard had left for him. He’d just gone back to his bedroom after eating a proper lunch with Gerard. He’d looked over toward his desk, intending to grab his novel so he could finish it, but his eyes landed on the large frame leaning up against the desk instead. Not realizing what it was at first, Frank took a curious step closer so he could inspect it.

When he turned it around, he almost dropped it back against his desk in shock. The last thing he’d been expecting to find on the front side of the canvas was the painting that he and Gerard (well, mostly Gerard) had done the week prior. He’d honestly thought that Gerard would sell the piece or keep it for himself, but the yellow post-it stuck to the top told Frank that the artwork was for him.

Frank’s smile lit up his face. He snickered at the botched spelling of his name as he plucked the tag from the frame to get a closer look at it. He decided that he liked the way his name looked spelled out like that, and spent the next several minutes giggling at himself as he tried to pronounce it. After several failed attempts, Frank decided to just pronounce it the same way he would if the ‘a’ hadn’t been removed.

Once that had been decided, Frank scanned the books he had lined up on his desk. He found the one that he’d put Gerard’s first note into and pulled it out. As he stuck the post-it with his new nickname to another random page in the book, Frank thought that he should probably get a box of some sort to store these little things in instead.

***

Gerard stood in the doorway to Frank’s bedroom and stared down at him, not quite sure what to make of the situation. He’d been across the hall in his own bedroom when he’d heard Frank shriek as something hit the floor.

That ‘something’ turned out to be Frank, who was currently still on the floor as he stared back up at Gerard. His face was flushed red, and Gerard wasn’t sure whether it was from embarrassment at being caught falling on his ass or from the effort of doing whatever it was that Frank had been trying to do when he’d fallen. Behind Frank, Gerard could see several large books and an extremely crushed cardboard box scattered across the floor.

He took a few steps forward into the room, then reached his hand out to Frank. The gesture was more than just an offer to help Frank up; it was also Gerard’s silent way of asking Frank if he was alright. Frank gave an affirmative nod as he grabbed Gerard’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up onto his feet.

Once Frank was upright again, Gerard noticed a hammer on the floor that had previously been blocked from his sight by Frank’s body. He watched as Frank bent down to pick up the hammer, then went over to neatly stack the books against the wall. Gerard kept his eyes on Frank as he tried to figure out just what he was trying to do.

The curious expression on Gerard’s face quickly twisted into one of horror as Frank put his foot on top of the stack and tried to hoist himself up. The makeshift stepstool began to wobble as soon as Frank put the slightest bit of weight on it, and a moment later Frank let out another shriek as the stack collapsed underneath him.

This time, though, Frank didn’t land on the hard wooden floor. Gerard had lunged forward as the the books began to fall. Panic surged through him as he grabbed Frank and pulled him in close to his chest. Gerard held him tightly and threw his weight as hard as he could in the direction of Frank’s bed.

For a while they both just laid there. Frank’s heartbeat was erratic in his chest and he didn’t know whether it was from the fall or the fact that Gerard’s arms were still around him. He figured he should probably say something--thank Gerard for being there to catch him this time--but words seem to elude him at the moment.

Instead, he twisted his body around in Gerard’s grasp, then leaned up to kiss him lightly under his chin. Then he laid his head down against Gerard’s chest and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the books had been put neatly back into their place on his desk, the painting hung in the spot that Frank had been trying to reach when he’d fallen, and Gerard was gone.

It didn’t take long for Frank to track him down. Gerard’s bedroom door was open and Frank could see him sitting on the bed as soon as he stepped out into the hallway from his own room. Curiosity overtook Frank; Gerard’s bedroom door usually remained closed regardless of whether he was in there or not and Frank had never been inside.

Gerard looked up when Frank appeared in his doorway. He smiled as Frank bounced on the balls of his feet just outside the room. The way Frank’s upper body leaned forward over the threshold made it obvious that he wanted to come in but didn’t want to intrude. Gerard set aside the notebook he’d been scribbling in and waved Frank into the room.

A pleased little smile appeared on Frank’s face as he straightened up and entered the room. He stopped when he reached the center, and Gerard watched as Frank looked around and took in the new surroundings.

The room was quite a bit larger than Frank’s bedroom. Art supplies and sketchbooks covered the desk. There were also a couple of spiral notebooks stacked up with the sketchbooks. Frank wondered what was in them but he didn’t ask. A tall bookshelf in the corner held an impressive collection of comic books and several action figures that Frank figured were probably collectables. Frank had just stepped up closer to get a better look at the titles of the comics when something else caught his eye.

There was a closet at the far end of the room. Frank hadn’t paid much mind to it at first, he’d just acknowledged its existence and assumed that Gerard stored clothes inside. From this new angle, however, Frank could now see that the door was slightly ajar. Several jackets and hooded sweatshirts hung up inside, but Frank was far more interested in the black stand that sat against the back wall and the guitar that rested in it.

As he moved closer to get a better look, a familiar feeling came over him. He wanted so badly to pick up the guitar and play something that for a moment he forgot that it wasn’t his room that he was standing in and the instrument wasn’t his to play. Without even bothering to ask, Frank gently took the guitar from the stand and sat down on the floor with it. He took a couple of minutes to tune it, then closed his eyes as he began to play.

Gerard watched him from the bed. He was surprised to find that Frank was quite talented and, if the look on Frank’s face was any indication, it was something he enjoyed quite a bit. He was totally focused and completely relaxed, the same way Gerard got when he got lost in his artwork.

Frank finished playing the song and opened his eyes.The moment he did so, the sight of Gerard looking down at him pulled Frank from his own little world and back to reality.

“Mi dispiace!” he shouted much louder than necessary considering Gerard was sitting right there. Gerard wasn’t phased by it. He just smiled at Frank, who held the guitar protectively as he scrambled to his feet. He spewed out a couple more apologies, then held the guitar out for Gerard to take back.

Frank left the room after that. He was pretty sure Gerard wasn’t mad at him for playing the guitar without permission but he wasn’t sure if he’d still be welcome in the room. He cursed at himself under his breath, then sat down on the living room couch. He was debating on whether or not to go get something to read from his bedroom when Gerard entered the room. The guitar was still in his hands, and Frank wondered if Gerard was going to play.

Instead of sitting down, however, Gerard stepped up in front of Frank. He placed the guitar gently in Frank’s lap and waited for him to take it before he sat down. When Frank looked up at him for some kind of confirmation that he had permission, Gerard smiled at him again and nodded gently.

Frank’s face lit up and he positioned the instrument properly. When he closed his eyes and began to play again, a calmness settled over the room. Frank spent the rest of the afternoon playing song after song on the guitar, and Gerard sat by his side the entire time and listened.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mi dispiace!: I'm sorry! 
> 
> By the way, guys, I have a tumblr! If anyone is interested, it's frnkpansyiero.tumblr.com


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